eight
rutledge
Since I’d dropped her off, my fucking mind was reeling. There’d been so many fucking times I wanted to touch her. Hell, when she smiled so softly at Mr. Melton, I wanted to fucking kiss her. When she missed the step down off the curb and I grabbed her arm to steady her, I wanted to link my damn fingers with hers. Make sure she was safe.
There was something wrong with me. Maybe I was sick. Maybe I had contracted some rare disease because never in my thirty-seven fucking years of life had I wanted to do the things with a woman that I’d wanted to do with Peyton Morgan.
When I looked at her and said, “Yeah, I could definitely eat.” It wasn’t pizza I wanted. My face buried in her pussy had been the only thought that’d filled my mind.
As I pulled down the street and up in front of Swan Point Inn, memories swamped me as I remembered passing this old house on my way to Slater’s Candy Store as a kid. They had the best fucking homemade chocolate coins, and Mrs. Slater always gave me more than I paid for. I wondered if they were still there.
I was sitting at the curb in front of the Inn, and just as I was about to text her that I was here, she came out the door. I blinked twice because she looked so fucking cute in black leggings and a sweater that was as bright as a fucking pumpkin. Her outfit was matched with a pair of black chucks. She bounced down the steps and yes, I watched her tits move underneath the bulky material. Shaking my head, I exited my truck, but before I could offer help like I had this morning, she was already rounding it.
“I got it,” she said, throwing a hand up at me.
I smiled, but didn’t move. I stood outside the driver’s door and waited until she was in the truck. And just like earlier in the day, she hiked her leg up into it, grabbed the handle and hoisted herself into the seat.
“See.” She looked over at me with a big smile like she had just successfully climbed Mount Everest. “Told you I had it.”
Getting back in the driver’s seat, I pulled out into the street and muttered, “Nice sweater.”
She eyed me, picking up on the sarcasm, but wasn’t deterred when she said, “One of my favorites.”
I chanced a glance over at her, saw she was dead serious and kept on with my teasing when I asked, “You going for the great fucking pumpkin look?”
She laughed, her head turned to the side. “No. But it is super comfy.”
I kept my eyes glued to the windshield. I wanted to look over at her, but I couldn’t. Because that laugh echoing through the cab of my truck, fuck, I wanted to hear it again. Instead, I kept quiet and drove slightly over the speed limit to get us to Geno’s before I pulled the truck over and did something I might later regret.
My mind had been so enthralled with her laugh it didn’t even register that I was in Ogg’s Point. Actually in the center of town in Ogg’s Point to be exact. Looking around it was like I never fucking left. People milled about the streets, bundled in sweaters, sipping hot chocolate, coffee, or tea to remove the chill. I quickly scanned the area as I pulled up in front of Geno’s, but I didn’t see anyone who looked familiar.
I killed the engine and said, “Ready?”
“Absolutely.”
We walked through the door of Geno’s and the familiar scent of spices, fresh pizza, and baked Italian food hit my nose. The smell was fucking amazing.
“Holy shit it smells good in here,” Peyton said nearly on a shout.
I absently grinned at her excitement; my eyes wandering to the counter where I saw the people behind it weren’t anyone I knew.
So far, I seemed to be in the clear.
Just then an uneasy feeling moved down my spine. The numbness began to crawl through me. My breathing turned labored, my palms started to sweat. I was going to fucking lose it in front of her, again. I quickly turned to look out the large windows as I felt the sense of being watched. I took a deep inhale through my nose, trying to keep my nerves at bay but I could have fucking sworn that I caught a glimpse of him.
It couldn’t have been.
At that moment, Peyton touched my arm. “Hey, are you okay?”
I shook my head, took another deep breath, and tried to answer as evenly as I could, “Yeah.” I gestured to an open table. “Let’s sit.”
Once seated, she didn’t say anything, but she studied me from across the table, and I had a feeling she was seeing more than I wanted. Instead of pressing the point, she said, “Mushrooms, onions, peppers and sausage. That work for you?”
“Yep,” I replied, as everything seemed to calm inside of me.
It’s just fucking pizza, Rut. Yeah, it’s in Ogg’s Point, but you can fucking do this.
She continued, “And diet coke because if the pizza tastes half as good as it smells, I’ll be eating my body weight.” She even licked her lower lip in anticipation.
I watched, wondering what that tongue would feel like gliding along my stiff cock. And before my dick started to grow, a feat I had to tackle all day long, I asked with a tilted head, “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
Her blank expression was proof she hadn’t a clue what I was asking. She leaned a little closer before she asked, “About what?”
I mimicked her posture, “The diet fucking coke, you’re kidding, right?”
Her expression didn’t change when she replied, “No. I don’t joke about food. Besides, I like the taste better than regular coke.”
I leaned back in the booth, crossed my arms, and studied her. A few beats had passed when I said, “So you’re one of those people that order a super-sized meal and a diet coke, which makes no fucking sense.” She started to rebut but I held a hand up and went on, “As for the taste, you need to get your fucking taste buds checked out. And let me add that that shit has that fake sugar in it that fucks with your body, you know that?”
Her arms settled on the table, but it was the little smile that touched her lips that held my attention. “First, I’m the chick who orders a super-sized meal and gets a milkshake. They don’t have milkshakes here. As far as the fake sugar, I’m well aware and only have it occasionally.” She tilted her head before adding, “But thanks for the concern.” I think she was being sincere, if I had to guess.
“Stop drinking that shit, will ya.” I told her firmly, just as the waitress approached. I didn’t give Peyton a chance to talk as I ordered for her and when I got to our drink order, I ordered a vanilla and chocolate milkshake. She had only assumed they didn’t have them, but I knew they did.
When the waitress lingered, making no attempt to move it along I added, “That’s all.” She smiled at me, gave a quick glance at Peyton before hurrying away.
“You could have told me. Vanilla and chocolate, I might drink both,” she said with a smile.
I winked at her and said suggestively, “I have a feeling you’re a vanilla kinda girl.”
By the color that rose on her cheeks and the hesitancy in her expression before she dropped her gaze to the table, I knew I was fucking right. I wasn’t trying to make her feel uncomfortable so I asked, “I know it hasn’t been long, but what do you think of the place so far?”
“Ogg’s Point or the pizza parlor?” she teased but before my eyes she grew thoughtful. “The town is...perfect. Exactly what I’d hoped it would be. I can’t wait to see more of it.”
I was too fixated on watching her mouth move, so I hadn’t noticed someone walking through the door.
“Well, damn.” The familiar voice hitting my ears as it grew closer. “Rutledge Raines?”
Billy Sanders, a kid who grew up in Ogg’s Point. Fucking great.
“Billy Sanders,” I said and rose with my hand out.
“I heard you took off, became some big shot or something,” he stated while looking at me like I was a fucking celebrity.
I chuckled and glanced down at Peyton, who was intently watching our interaction.
“Nah,” I drawled and went on, “Live in Buffalo running the family business.” Again, I looked back at her and saw something in her expression, just as Billy’s focus shifted to her.
“Well,” he said to her, the expression on his face changing when he took her in fully. “Who do we have here?”
I inwardly laughed. If Billy thought he had a shot at Peyton, fuck no! I made the introductions. “Peyton Morgan, this is Billy Sanders.”
“Hi, Billy. It’s nice to meet you.”
He nodded at her. “The same.” He brought his attention back to me. “So what is Rutledge Raines doing back in Ogg’s Point?”
“Selling my grandmother’s place.” I gestured to Peyton. “Peyton is a potential buyer.”
“Ahh.” Billy’s eyes lit up as his focus shifted to her again. He moved closer before offering, “I can show you around Ogg’s Point.”
The tone in his voice had my hands fisting at my sides. I had to keep my cool. Maybe bringing Peyton here wasn’t such a good idea. I knew I should have stayed away from the center of town. Just then the waitress started toward us with a steaming pizza resting on her hand.
“We’ve decided to take that to go,” I informed her. She frowned before she turned to go box up our order.
“Don’t forget the milkshakes,” Peyton added.
Our eyes met. I smiled.
“So...” Billy didn’t seem to care that he was being ignored; he kept on talking when he said again, “How about that tour?”
Peyton’s attention moved from me to Billy. She dropped her voice and said, “I’m not really buying his grandmother’s house. I’m just using him for sex.”
I snickered under my breath, and at that moment, I realized I really liked Peyton Morgan.
Billy’s face was unreadable but neither of us seemed to care as the waitress spoke, “Order’s ready to go.”
I reached in front of Billy, extending my hand toward Peyton, and muttered with a smile on my face, “Let’s go Julia Roberts.”
Her smile took up her whole face, her small hand coming to rest in mine. She stood, winked at me, wiggled her fingers at Billy, then headed to the counter.
We didn’t say much when we left Geno’s, or when she got up in the truck and I gave her the pizza to hold in her lap and the milkshakes that she put in the console. We were down the road, and I had no fucking idea where to go without the chance of bumping into anyone else I knew in Ogg’s Point.
I could suggest her room at Swan Point Inn or mine at Matter’s Inn, but I knew me. If I got this woman within a close range of a bed, I was going to fuck her until the sun came up, or she passed out, whichever came first.
“Wanna go back to the house?” It was the only place I could think of and as much as it bothered me, I’d try and keep the demons at bay for her.
She glanced over at me and smiled. “Yes.”
I nodded and veered the truck down a side street and headed toward Clover Lane. When I pulled down the driveway, I didn’t stop. I kept going until I had enough room to swiftly turn the truck around in the vast area of grass in the back of the house. I caught her looking at me, but she didn’t say a word as I maneuvered the truck so the tailgate was close to the cliff’s edge.
“Dinner with a view.” I gestured behind us with a jerk of my head.
“Perfect.”
We were sitting on the tailgate, open box between us. Peyton was making soft sounds in the back of her throat as she sank her teeth into the pizza. I let the first sound go, but as she continued, those sounds coming from her mouth…
Fuck.
She needed to fucking stop it. I couldn’t fucking think straight. Coming up with the stupidest fucking question, I asked, “What colors you thinking for the house?”
She held up her finger, a drip of pizza grease on her chin that she wiped away with her hand. “This is the best pizza. Definitely worth moving here for this.” She was going to take another bite, realized I’d asked a question and answered, “Colors. For the outside, I’ll keep as is. Inside, I think dark...navy blues and grays for the bedrooms, lighter for the family areas and the kitchen.”
“Good choices,” I mumbled around chewing. “Best to keep the original color on the outside, since you’d have to run a new color through the council if you wanted to change it.”
It was then we both heard something, a rustling that was definitely coming from somewhere close.
“You hear that?” I whispered.
Even in the dark, I saw her face pale. She was probably thinking about the scene with my father. “Yeah. It sounds close,” she confirmed in a low voice.
I easily jumped down from the truck and demanded, “Stay here.”
Walking slowly, so I didn’t make a sound, I scanned the property. Earlier popped into my head, the feeling at Geno’s returning with the persistent itch at the nape of my neck. Glancing around the outer edge of the lawn, the bushes didn’t move. Being here at the house, all the shit that had gone down here, my mind was playing tricks on me. But as I made my way up toward the house, I saw a shadow take off.
It was so dark, not a hint of light around, so I couldn’t tell what it was, but I stood there a second and waited to see if whatever the fuck it was, was gone. I took a deep breath and looked back toward the truck, the light of the cab lighting up her fearful face. Her eyes were intently focused on me.
I wanted to lighten the mood, thought to do that by fucking with her, so I yelled, “Run!” Sprinting toward the truck, I thought the smile on my face would have expressed that I was joking around.
I was wrong.
If I hadn’t been watching, I wouldn’t have believed she could move so fast. She was out of the truck running, but in the direction toward the cliffs. Realizing she was heading in that direction, she attempted to stop but slid on the grass and fell on her ass.
Oh shit!
My sprint turned into a full fledge run as I barreled toward her, shouting, “I’m only fucking with you!”
I reached her; she was lying on the grass, staring up at the stars. I loomed over her, and those eyes came to me. They were hot with temper. I thought she was going to bitch about falling. I was wrong again. “I dropped the pizza.”
I couldn’t help it, I started to crack the fuck up as I extended my hand to her. “I owe you another pizza then.”
She reached for my hand when she asked, “Do you think we can still apply the five second rule?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” I said in a deep voice. Her hand tensed in mine and temper turned to something else, something softer. Her eyes were trained on me, and even when she was stable on her feet, she made no move away from me. As if she realized her behavior, she let go of me. I watched as she moved her hands over her body, smoothing out her sweater before brushing dead grass off her ass.
She turned her focus back on me and cocked her hip. “You’re a jackass. I can forgive making me fall and bruising my ass, but the damage to the pizza...” She shook head. “That’s harder.”
I moved my face closer to hers, maybe too close, when I huskily whispered, “I’m many things, Peyton, you just wait and see.”